


Gridlocked

by SirKai



Category: Transformers: Prime
Genre: Banter, Cars, Gen, Robots
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-30
Updated: 2012-10-30
Packaged: 2017-11-17 08:42:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,085
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/549697
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SirKai/pseuds/SirKai
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ratchet finds himself trapped in traffic with quite unsavory company.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Gridlocked

There must be something to these humans. Something that can’t be so easily measured and valued to a number. Whatever it is that validates such banal tedium completely eludes me. To be sitting in nothing but a motionless horde with no way out. Everyone is so tightly crammed together and yet none of the humans appear to actually want to be here. There’s also the irony of the instruments known as automobiles who don’t in fact do much moving at all when there’s so many near each other. Perhaps human entertainment truly is so esoteric.

The lane to the right of me began to budge forward, while my own lane seems to have forgotten what movement means. How is it that in such a damning scenario, I can’t even subscribe to the proper arbitrary, dotted passage! The large (truly, what humans needs a vehicular instrument this bombastic in scope) truck to my right crawls forward, and taking its place is some sort of flashy red-

Oh no.

No, for the love of Primus-

“Woooaahh, hahahaha! Nice make and model, _Doc Ratch!_ Hahahaha!”

How did he... what was he, of all Cybertronians, doing here? Ugh, and that mocking laughter...

“What’s the matter? Too shy to speak in public? You know I think the humans have a word for that-”

“Keep your voice down, do you want the humans to hear you!?” I make it a point to keep my vocal audio channels hushed serviceably. All of the human transports in the vicinity seem to have their glass shielding applied. I can only hope that’s enough to adequately dampen the noise. I really should investigate the integrity of human technology more thoroughly...

“Oh well, my apologies, Doctor. I don’t know where I left my manners. I’d forgotten how subtle and _scrupulous_ us Decepticons are known for being about indigenous earth life.”

I couldn’t see his face- he didn’t even have a face at the time, really- but all I could picture was that condescending sneer of his. What I wouldn’t give to have Wheeljack straighten him out.

“How could you even tell it was me?” I asked. My wheels instinctively pivoted towards Knock Out. Speaking in an alternate mode is so restricting.

“Please, that garish orange on the side is unmistakable.”

Typical conceited delinquent. No appreciation for basic practicality. “The humans call it an electrocardiogr-”

“Ohhh citing the humans now, are we?”

“Medicine of all cultures deserves respect, Knock Out. I thought even _you_ might realize that. Besides, we are speaking the human’s language.”

“Touche’.”

A bizarre lack of social interaction ensued. ‘Awkward silence,’ I believe it’s called. The two of us merely rested there in the frozen traffic next to each other, neither moving forward an inch. It was indeed quite awkward.

“So... is human travel always this miserable?” How else was I meant to initiate conversation with a decepticon?

“You don’t get out much, do you Doctor?”

My front headlights involuntarily flared up for a moment. “I get out enough! Plenty, even! And that’s none of your business!”

“It’s called gridlock traffic, Doctor, and you’ll find just about every major city on this planet seems to suffer from it at the worst possible times.”

“It’s a wonder you’ve got the patience for your hobby. It’s a wonder _anyone_ on this planet has the patience for this.”

“You’re telling me. I have a race in less than two hours and these skin jobs better hope I’m out of this misery by then.”

Several of my panels convulsed defensively.

“Hahaha, easy Doctor. I was only _joking_ ,” Knock Out said. His voice trailed off in a longing sigh that I could only describe as perverse. “Besides, picking human physiology out of my rivets can be such a _tiring_ process.”

And then my windshield wipers twitched. I like to think he was joking about that too.

“But I have to ask, why are you still stuck here?”

“Puh-lease, isn’t that obvious?” I scoffed at him. “I have solid obstructions on all sides of me! The same as you! Unless we were to break our cover-”

“You _do_ know human emergency transports have sirens, right?”

“Of course! I have thoroughly explored this alt-mode’s featureset, Knock Out.”

“Then blare that baby and get us out of here!”

“I fail to see how making such an insufferable racket would-”

“The cars in front of us will move out of your way, you idiot! It’s some sort of common courtesy on this planet. Yes, _human courtesy_. Can you believe it?”

“You’re just fabricating that to make a fool out of me,” I grumbled at him.

“Am I? Are you really willing to be stuck here for hours? Turn on your siren, get us both out of here and I’ll pretend this whole encounter never happened.”

I held back a retort to consider his proposal. The logic did seem sound enough. How else were these crude earth response vehicles meant to serve their purpose? But more than that, the prospect of being trapped for hours in a motionless alt-mode...

“Alright, fine,” I conceded. “But if you’re lying, I’ll-”

“You’ll what? Tattle to big _Papa Prime?_ Just hit the siren so we can leave!”

I was tempted to tell him to keep his voice down, but I suppose it would be in vain given that I was engaging my emergency sirens. Ugh, I hate these things. The flashing and rotating lights, and the constant shriek that blasts my audio receptors. Emergency protocol was so much more elegant on Cybertron, even when it was screaming for one’s attention.

But, as Knock Out claimed, the line of cars began squeezing towards the edge of the road. In just a few moments, the center lane was quite roomy for the next few hundred meters.

“Later _Doc!_ Thanks for the assist!” The con’s tires spun in place, so brashly that he was turning the rubber into smoke, and launched himself in front of me to claim the lane. I almost backed into the poor human vehicle behind me just trying to avoid the obnoxious fraud. I wish I had a face at the time to scowl at him a fist to wave. “I’ll be sure to pay you back _in kind_ next time we meet, hahaha!” The laughter following the thinly veiled threat was quickly drowned out by his abhorrent engine. I swear to Primus that thing could be heard for miles.

Unfortunately, the same couldn’t be said for my poorly timed response.

“Grr, my name is not Doc!”


End file.
